She Will Be Loved
by Permanent Rose
Summary: Angela Weber's life is falling apart. Left pregnant after a one night stand, Angela is ready to take her own life, only to be saved by Embry. A delicate romance buds, but fate threatens to force them apart.
1. Prologue

**_She Will Be Loved_**

Beauty queen of only eighteen  
She had some trouble with herself  
He was always there to help her  
She always belonged to someone else

I drove for miles and miles  
And wound up at your door  
I've had you so many times but somehow  
I want more

I don't mind spending everyday  
Out on your corner in the pouring rain  
Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile  
And she will be loved  
She will be loved

Tap on my window knock on my door  
I want to make you feel beautiful  
I know I tend to get insecure  
It doesn't matter anymore

It's not always rainbows and butterflies  
It's compromise that moves us along  
My heart is full and my door's always open  
You can come anytime you want

I don't mind spending everyday  
Out on your corner in the pouring rain  
Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile  
And she will be loved  
She will be loved

I know where you hide  
Alone in your car  
Know all of the things that make you who you are  
I know that goodbye means nothing at all  
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls

**Song: She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5  
**

_**Summary: Angela's life is falling apart. Ben has broken up with her and she believes that Bella, her best friend, is dead. Left pregnant after a one night stand, Angela is ready to take her own life, only to be saved by Embry. A delicate romance buds, but fate threatens to force them apart. Through heartbreak and pain, Angela discovers how to grow through hardships and love even when nobody loves you in return. **_

* * *

_Prologue_

* * *

**Angela**

_If you had asked me how it had all come to be, I would not have been able to tell you. The puzzle pieces, which had once seemed so twisted and impossible to fit together, now completed a perfectly formed picture, though it was quite a hideous image to gaze upon. _

_Everything I had believed to be fiction was now suddenly true. I was in a fairy tale, but I was not the princess. It was as though someone had flipped my world upside down, and I was now dangling from a fraying rope that threatened to snap at any moment, leaving me spiraling to my doom. _

_And now—there was no way out. It was either keep swinging from the rope or let myself fall. And I could not let myself fall because there was now someone who needed me, someone I loved—and I would be there for her, even if I caused me unbearable pain to live through it all._

_Even if I were just a shadow in the bright light of her future._

_Even if she would ultimately get to live my dream._

* * *

_A/N: Sorry it's so short. Chapter one should be up within the next few days. I appreciate your feedback. _


	2. Part I: Chapter I

_A/N: Much thanks to **The Duchessina, **who beta read this for me. _

* * *

_Part I: Look for the Girl with the Broken Smile_

* * *

**Angela**

"Ang!"

The voice seemed miles away as it echoed through my ears, pulling me from my dream.

"Angela!" The voice called again, louder and clearer this time. I groaned, pulling my pillow over my head, blocking the light.

I felt like shit.

"Come on, Ang!" Cora pulled the pillow off my head. I squeezed my eyes shut against the blinding light. "You're going to be late for class. What'd you do, stay up the whole night drinking?"

She wasn't far off, though I couldn't begin to give her anymore details than that. Last night was no clearer than the dream I had previously been having.

"Go ahead without me," I mumbled, groping for the pillow, still refusing to open my eyes.

"Angela, this is the fourth time this month you've skipped your morning classes," Cora lectured me.

I groaned, finally opening my eyes; as soon as I did, I wished I hadn't. The room spun around me, making me feel nauseous and dizzy. I heaved myself out of bed, but as soon as my feet hit the floor, my stomach lurched as I vomited all over the floor.

I heard Cora gag and mumble a quick "see you later" as she hurried out the door of dorm room.

I collapsed back against my bed, still tasting the bitter bile in my throat. I knew I'd have to clean it up—especially before Cora got back, but I felt too lightheaded to move at the moment.

I hadn't always been like this—the drunk, immoral party animal. In fact, for the better half of my life, I had been the sweet, caring daughter of a minster, always the girl that every parent compared their child to.

It all started to go downhill after Bella Swan had gotten married. She had been my closest friend, the one who understood me most—nothing like snobby Jessica or bitchy Lauren. I had hoped to remain friends after the marriage, even though we were both going our separate ways. But I never saw her again after the day of the wedding—I didn't even hear anything about her until she made the headlines of the Forks paper.

She had died in car crash at only age nineteen.

I fell apart after that—depressed that I had never gotten the chance to say goodbye, angry and hurt that she had never cared enough to stay in contact with me. Heartbroken that I had lost my only true friend.

I had just begun my first semester at Seattle University when I had received the news. I was already feeling alone and abandoned—Ben had broken up with me only a month after school had started, stating that he needed to move on. And being in a new environment hadn't helped much. I was so quiet and reserved—making friends was hard.

I had never turned to alcohol a vice before, but never before had I felt so broken. So alone. So afraid.

It offered me temporary relief from my pain and troubles and was easy enough to access through the ever partying upper classmen, so I took advantage of it, forgetting everything that had ever mattered to me. I forgot the endless sermons and the rules that had defined my life for so long. I still looked like the same Angela, but inside, I was a completely different person that even I didn't recognize at times.

More often than not, I would wake up feeling like shit, barely remembering my actions from the night before, not unlike today.

I knew I needed to clean up my vomit; the stench was already unbearable. But I felt so weak and tired.

"I'll get to it in a minute," I mumbled to myself.

I drifted off into oblivion only moments later.

* * *

"What the hell…" Cora gagged as soon as she stepped into the room. "Should've known I'd be the one to clean it up…"

My eyelids flew open. Cora stood before me with a disapproving look on her face. She was tall, taller than I was at least, with short blonde hair cut into a bob. She wore modest, but trendy clothing, and everything always matched, even her pajamas.

Cora and I had started out friends. She was a quiet, studious girl—just like I had been. She had to make sure everything was neat and organized, even my side of the room. I had caught her more than once folding and organizing the clothing in my drawers that always ended up on the floor.

We had both been shy at first but had opened up to each other after discovering we were taking a lot of the same classes. We studied together, laughed with each other late into the night as we talked about home, and told each other thing about ourselves we would've never dared to tell anyone else. She became the friend that I had lost when Bella died – and I became the sister she never had.

Cora told me about her abusive father, and how he always hit her and her mother.

"He didn't used to hit me," she had told me, her voice thick and strained. "Only Mom. But one day when I was about thirteen, I was sick of watching him hurt her, sick seeing her in pain, sick of watching her try to hide the bruises. So I yelled at him to leave her alone, to stop hurting her. But he just turned to me and hit me just as hard."

College was her escape. She been working ever since she was fourteen (she had lied about her age to get the job). She had saved every penny of what she earned, worked hard to get the highest grades she could manage, and silently endured the pain her father inflicted on her. She ended up with a partial scholarship and enough money to pay for her first year and a half at Seattle University. Even so, she relied heavily on loans to pay her tuition.

"But it's all worth it," she had whispered into the darkness. "To be away from him. I only wish there were some way I could save my mother as well."

In turn, I told her about my friendship with Bella and how her premature death haunted me. I told her about Ben—she had tried to offer me advice when we were having relationships problems, and she was a shoulder to cry after we had broken up.

But our relationship changed considerably after I began to turn to drinking.

It had all started on a Saturday night. Cora had been visiting home for the weekend—much against her own will, but her mother's pleas had eventually convinced her. I was alone in our dorm, tediously plowing my way through Macbeth, wishing that I had a friend to hang out or at least a boyfriend to call.

I had thrown the book down against my pale blue comforter in frustration. The room was already beginning to become untidy in Cora's absence; I decided it would be a nice surprise for her to have it straightened when she came back.

There wasn't much to do; Cora's side of the room was as immaculate as she had left it. I picked up a few articles of clothing off the floor and threw away a few granola bar wrappers I had tossed onto the floor.

Once I was done, I scanned the room, making sure I hadn't missed anything. Out of the corner of my eyes, I noticed a corner of paper sticking out from underneath my bed. Curious, I bent down to pick it up. My breath caught in my throat once I realized what it was.

It was the newspaper announcing Bella's death.

Why hadn't I ever thrown it away? I shoved it back under my bed, trying to stop the tears that inevitably followed.

I hated my life. I hated that I was heading down this same old road, with the same regrets and fears and sorrows.

I searched for the key to my dorm room, leaving on a whim; I had no idea where I would end up.

It wasn't very far. A party was being held on the floor above me; there were so many inebriated people that I had no trouble slipping in and becoming intoxicated myself. It didn't take long to obtain the high I was seeking. I had never had alcohol is such quantities before, only occasional sips on champagne on New Year's Eve and the red wine we consumed at church services, so my body was not accustomed to the affects.

On the next day, Cora returned, only to find me still conked out on my bed at one o'clock in the afternoon, completely stoned.

That was the first time I threw up all over our dorm. And the first time Cora cleaned it up. And it wouldn't be the last.

"Let me help you with that," I rasped, finally untangling myself from my twisted sheets and climbing out of bed.

Cora managed a weak smile; I knew she was only breathing out of her mouth. "Could you go to the bathroom and get some paper towel?"

I nodded, hobbling across the room and out the door. I suddenly realized I had to pee quite desperately. How many beers had I had last night anyway?

After relieving myself, I began to grab handfuls of paper towel sheets, wanting to get enough so I wouldn't have to make another trip back here.

"Hey, Ang," a voice said from behind me. It was Monica, one of my more reckless friends.

"Hey, Mon," I answered, taking one finally handful of paper towel.

"Another clean up?" she guessed, looking at the mountain of paper towel in my arms.

I nodded.

"Been there, done that," she laughed, examining her face in the mirror. Monica was a short, slightly gothic girl. Her hair was dyed pitch black and cut short, and she wore excessive amounts of black eye makeup.

"I look like shit," she murmured, rubbing at the dark circles under her eyes. "So, how was screwing Brandon Mitchell last night?"

My heart skipped a beat, almost dropping my carefully gathered paper towels. She had to be joking with me, but the fact that the events of last night were only a black hole in my memory made me nervous.

After seeing the shocked look on my face, she felt the need to elaborate. "Well I assume you slept with him. He was all over you, and I saw you both disappear into his room."

This time I did drop my stack of paper towels. I gripped the side of the sink as the bathroom spun around me. I was afraid I was going to be sick again.

"Sorry, Ang," she soothed, picking up the sheets of paper towels and handing them to me. "I'm sure it will be okay."

"Sure," I managed to choke out. "The fact that I can't remember how far we went or he used any protection…" I trailed off, feeling more nauseous by the second.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it." Monica patted me reassuringly on the arm.

"Thanks, Mon." I managed a slight smile before leaving the bathroom, absentmindedly dropping paper towels on my way out.

What _had _happened last night?


	3. Part I: Chapter II

_A/N: So this chapter is really short, but there is nothing else I wanted to add to it. Sorry its been so long since I've updated! _

* * *

_Chapter II_

**Angela**

It was definitely positive.

I stared down at the stick I held in my hand, my eyes resting on the two red lines.

I was pregnant. There was no denying it. This was the third test I had taken. This was the third test I had taken that had come out positive.

Shit.

I had been a wreck ever since the morning in the bathroom with Monica. Figuring I had pushed my luck enough, I ceased the party going and drinking, praying that I hadn't already pushed my limits.

I felt better than I had in a while. My head was finally unclouded from the lack of alcohol, and I had been going to bed at decent hours. I was beginning to think the angel of mercy had pitied me, but my hopes were soon crushed when I skipped my next period.

I panicked and confessed everything to Cora, sobbing into the darkness, unsure of what to do with myself.

She, sweet, wonderful Cora, crawled into bed with me and held me like a small child, rocking me until my tears ceased.

"Don't cry, honey," she soothed, brushing my hair away from my face. "You're really stressed out right now, and a lot of women skip their period due to stress. Don't jump to conclusions."

I wave of relief washed over me, and for a moment, I believed everything might turn out all right.

"But I'd take a pregnancy test just to be sure," she added, making a spasm of panic course through me once again.

I had waited another week, a painstakingly long week, to make sure the results were accurate before taking the test.

I leaned my head against the wall of the bathroom stall, closing my eyes. But even with my eyes squeezed tightly shut, the two red lines still blared in mind. I slid down the wall until I hit the cold, tiled floor with a thud.

It didn't feel real. I felt as though I were somehow looking in on this scene. The pathetic girl crying on the floor of the bathroom stall couldn't be me. I knew these kinds of things happened everyday, but not to me. Not me.

The bathroom door swung open, making me jerk up in surprise. I tried to gather my bearings, hoisting myself off the floor, but the stick only fell from my hands, clattering onto the floor and sliding a few feet away, out of my reach. I held my breath, not daring to move.

I saw a pair of legs come into view. Pale grey leggings and white eyelet lace flats. She stopped in front of the stick, staring at it for a moment before picking it up.

"Angela?"

I let my breath out, never more relieved in my entire life. It was only Cora.

I sniffled, knowing that a stream of tears would only follow if I tried to speak.

"Angela, honey?" She approached my stall, knocking softly.

I didn't speak, couldn't speak. Hot, steaming tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes, running into my mouth, down my neck. I didn't attempt to wipe them away.

"I'm so sorry, honey," she whispered, and I could almost see her looking at the identical red stripes. "Would you come out?" she added hopefully.

I swallowed my tears and shakily reached for the lock. Cora reached out to rub my arm reassuringly, her eyes full of sympathy.

She reached for a sheet of paper towel and carefully wrapped the stick in it, throwing it gently into the depths of the trashcan. She could bury the evidence, but it wouldn't change anything. There was a small life growing within me whether there was a stick to prove it or not.

"Come on," she whispered, taking my hand and leading me out of the bathroom and into our dorm room.

She sat me down on the edge of my bed, enveloping me into a tight hug.

"This is really happening, isn't it?" I managed to choke out.

"Oh, honey," she soothed, squeezing me tighter.

"What am I gonna do?" I murmured, a fresh batch of tears brimming at the corners of my eyes.

Cora sighed, rubbing my shoulder affectionately. "Well, you have a few options…" she trailed off.

I stiffened, thinking about _that. _An abortion went against all the morals I had grown up, but then again, I had not considered this happening. I thought of my father, and how he would react to the news of a pregnancy. Maybe it would be better to terminate it and pretend it never happened.

"I'll do it."

I did not need to specify; Cora knew what my words meant. "Are you sure?"

I brought my hand to my stomach and tried not to think too much of the little life growing inside me. It would be better to end it now. It would only be cruel to let it live.

"Are you sure, Angela?" Cora asked again when I didn't reply.

I took in a deep breath. "I'm sure."

But inside, I knew that I was not.

* * *

_I just want to thank everyone who had reviewed so far. I really appreciate it. So what do you think Angela will choose to do?_


End file.
